Come What May
by TheChimeraSculptress
Summary: Logan wrestles with the idea of love. This mushy little fic was inspired by the song Come What May,' from the movie Moulin Rouge.'


Summary - Logan wrestles with the idea of love…

* * *

This mushy little fic was inspired by the song `Come What May,' from the movie `Moulin Rouge.'

* * *

"Do you love her?"

Logan scowled at Storm from across the kitchen table. It was 2am and neither X-man had been able to sleep. Storm had retreated to the kitchen first for a herbal tea and Logan had sauntered in only a few minutes later for a beer. He hadn't been altogether surprised to find her in there. It hadn't been the first time that month. Of late, both of them seemed to have had trouble sleeping and they both had similar reasons.

"Do you love _him_?" he threw back in a lowered voice, not entirely comfortable with where this conversation was heading.

Storm ignored his grouchiness, well used to the Wolverine's less than sociable manners by now, and unconsciously jutted out her chin determinedly. "Yes. I believe I do."

Logan was taken aback. This was the first time she had actually admitted it.

"You might end up with blue kids," he pointed out dryly.

"Blue is my favourite colour," Storm countered with a somewhat sleepy, half-smile. Her scent washed over him, saturated with joy, and he found himself feeling genuinely happy for her. He wasn't usually one for all that romantic crap but even he couldn't deny that she and Nightcrawler were meant for each other.

"So?" she persisted.

"So, what?" he growled warily.

The woman's chocolate brown eyes glinted with mischief. "So, I have answered your question, now it is only polite to answer mine."

"I don't know," he blurted suddenly, clutching his beer bottle tighter in his hand. These night time encounters, along with a friendship forged over the past three years, had developed a certain degree of openness between them, but he was still sparing with his trust where feelings were involved.

"You said that last time," Storm despaired.

"Well maybe that's `cause it's true."

"Is it, Logan?" Storm asked softly. "Is it really?"

Logan brought the beer bottle to his lips and swallowed the bitter-tasting liquid in an attempt to avoid answering, although the question provoked thoughts in his head as he quenched his thirst.

Is it? he repeated to himself. Did he?

Could he?

Three years had passed since Alkali Lake and so many things had changed in his life during that time. Things for the better. Things that the old Logan - the time-wary, cage-fighting, angry-at-the-whole-fuckin'-world - Logan would never have imagined in a million years.

After hearing the revelations from Stryker he had finally given up on his past. Throwing his dog-tags at the bastard's feet had been his way of closure, an ending of it all, a release of the pain that had suffocated him for so long.

It had shocked him how easy it had been. How simple. But he knew, albeit grudgingly, that the X-Men, that joining them in their unwavering quest for peace, had been the main reason behind the transition. He hadn't accepted it at the time, the old Logan still very much in the forefront, but in hindsight, after all this time, he finally accepted that they had been his salvation.

That _she_ had been his salvation?

"I can hear the cogs turning, Logan," Storm persisted.

He snapped his gaze back onto her, returning the beer bottle to the table. "Ha ha," he retorted.

"Don't you think she deserves to know the truth? You can't keep leading her on like this. She loves you so much, Logan – it's no longer a childhood crush – everyone can see that."

"Fuck, you women are persistent," he snapped angrily. "I said that I don't know. Got it? That _is_ the truth." He hesitated and shrugged. "I care for her a great deal –"

Storm tutted and rolled her eyes, but then she looked at Logan, _really_ looked at him, in a way that made him feel uncomfortably scrutinised and exposed.

She slowly stood up, taking her empty mug with her. "I believe you," she returned quietly. "I'm sorry if I'm pushing…it's just…"

He found himself following her with his gaze as she walked over to the sink. "Just what?"

She turned with a small smile. "That I think you and Marie have something special. Like myself and Nightcrawler. And I wouldn't want to see that go to waste."

It was Logan's turn to sigh, although it was more discreet and controlled than Storm's. "I don't either."

Storm deposited her mug in the sink and made to leave the room. As she passed Logan she rested an affectionate hand on his shoulder. "You _do_ love her, Logan. You just need something to make you see it."

He reached for her wrist, surprising himself as well as Storm with his urgency. "Like what? How do I know? _Really_ know?" The desperation in his voice made him cringe inwardly and he promptly released her hand.

She watched him sympathetically and it irritated the hell out of him. He had never needed anything from anyone before and it felt alien to him, made him feel less of a man somehow, but he needed to know, needed her advice.

"If only it were that simple," she offered soothingly, obviously touched that he had reached out to her. "But there isn't one set answer. It could be something she says, something she does, or something you share together. It could be the simplest thing… something you've seen or experienced a thousand times before. It will be a fleeting moment in time that will change everything. And when it happens, you'll know, Logan. You'll feel like you've been whacked in the chest with a baseball bat."

Logan suddenly found it hard to swallow. "That intense, huh?"

She nodded. "That intense." She slipped through the open doorway. "Goodnight, Logan."

"Yeah, right back at ya," Logan returned distractedly, lacing his voice with feigned casualness. But he ran wary fingers through his dishevelled hair as he watched her walk gracefully away, wondering why one part of him could be impatient for that intensity whilst another part could be scared shitless by the very idea of it.

* * *

Weeks slipped into months. Hot sultry summer months. And for the first time in eighteen years, Logan felt contented to settle in one place. He didn't forget that conversation with Storm in the kitchen but he found himself avoiding returning there during the twilight hours for fear of a re-match, although he guessed that her insomnia would have disappeared with her realisation that she _did_ love Kurt - she and Nightcrawler were quite the happy couple now and had already planned a fall wedding.

He and Marie were just as happy – as happy as_ friends_ could be – but that_ intensity_ that Storm has spoken of had yet to reveal itself. He had a secret hunch that his subconscious – mixed up as it was – wasn't _allowing_ him to see it – protesting that she was too young, he was too old, that he wasn't good for her and a million other petty excuses.

But as those months passed he couldn't help but notice things more. He had always loved Marie's smile but it suddenly seemed more dazzling, he had always liked her lips but they seemed plumper, more sexier; and a whole host of other things that forced him to stop and wonder - her hair more luscious, her body more voluptuous, her laugh more heart-stopping, the casual touch of her hand more exciting… especially now that she had learnt to control her mutation.

In fact, every little thing she said or did seemed to affect him in some way or another.

Yet still that intensity refused to surface, that part of him still denying that he loved her, still fearing the idea.

Storm appeared to have given up on him and only looked sad when she watched him now. Sad and disappointed. But it wasn't often because she was too wrapped up in her husband-to-be.

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon when he went looking for Marie, hoping that she might accompany him fishing down at the lake. So far a search of her usual haunts had proven unsuccessful and he found himself back upstairs, outside her bedroom door.

It wasn't just her scent that told him that she was in the room. The music she was blaring out was so loud it could be heard clearly in the corridor. Not that it was that awful heavy-metal shit that Jubilee played constantly. In fact, he surprised himself by recognising it straight away, realising that it came from that movie Marie had forced him to watch with her the other night. What was it called? Moulin Rouge? Lots of singing and dancing that he had insisted was a load of girlie crap – hey, he still had a rep to maintain - but had secretly actually enjoyed.

The song she was playing was that main theme one – Come What…? He strained to think but gave up. Come What something-or-other. Very slushy but very Marie. He knocked on the door but wasn't altogether surprised when she didn't respond above the noise, so he slowly turned the door handle to let himself into the room.

Never knew I could feel like this  
Like I've never seen the sky before  
I want to vanish inside your kiss  
Every day I'm loving you more than this  
Listen to my heart, can you hear it sings  
Telling me to give you everything  
Seasons may change, winter to spring  
But I love you until the end of time

The music swept around him, painfully loud to his sensitive ears, but the image that filled his vision more than compensated.

Eyes closed, Marie lay on the bed in perfectly modest shorts and t-shirt, hands resting behind her head, hair spread out across the pillow, legs folded neatly and demurely at the ankles, her feet bare…

Her face was animated with emotion as she listened…her delicate features seeming so utterly absorbed in the lyrics…she looked so beautiful…

The sight of her took his breath away.

And then…then she started singing…

Well, not singing exactly…miming…miming to the woman's voice, whilst remaining silent when the guy sang…her mouth moving in perfect sync with the words so that it almost looked as if _she_ was actually singing…

Logan listened to the words and his throat suddenly went dry …

Suddenly the world seems such a perfect place  
Suddenly it moves with such a perfect grace  
Suddenly my life doesn't seem such a waste  
It all revolves around you  
And there's no mountain too high  
No river too wide  
Sing out this song I'll be there by your side  
Storm clouds may gather  
And stars may collide  
But I love you until the end of time

He watched, mesmerised. Usually he would have found this all amusing. Would have lent against the doorframe and laughed – at the slushy song and the way she was miming to it - and she would've probably threw her pillow at him in annoyance…

But for some reason…

He swallowed uncomfortably, instantly reminded of Storm's words:

_"It could be something she says, something she does, or something you share together. It could be the simplest thing…something you've seen or experienced a thousand times before. It will be a fleeting moment in time that will change everything. And when it happens, you'll know, Logan. You'll feel like you've been whacked in the chest with a baseball bat."_

The music touched him…the words…the sentiment…Marie so wrapped up in the emotions…all touched him so…

So…intensely…

And true to Storm's words he suddenly felt as if the wind had been completely knocked out of him.

He didn't even notice when the music stopped, only of Marie opening her eyes and sitting up to regard him in stunned silence.

"Marie…" he growled huskily, barely able to get the words out as, without turning, he kicked the door shut behind him.

"Logan?" She looked anxious but there was desperation in her tone and he knew that she had picked up on his desire. And – fuck! – if it wasn't the most intense desire he had ever felt in his life.

He had crossed the room to the bed in a blink of an eye, his mouth crushing down upon hers before she had time to protest. Not that she did protest, responding eagerly to his advances, whimpering beneath the urgency of his passion and reaching up to wrap her arms around him to pull him closer. Lowering her impatiently back down onto the bed he climbed over her, mouth still attacking hers ruthlessly, desperate to explore every inch of those beautiful lips, that body...his Marie…

He realised that Storm was right. It _had_ been the simplest thing - the most fleeting of moments - that would change everything. That would make him realise…

Realise that he couldn't live without this woman.

Finally - reluctantly - he severed their kiss and looked down at her face with a smile he knew would look pathetic, but somehow he didn't care.

"I love ya, Marie," he whispered hoarsely, running a shaking hand tenderly through her hair. There was nothing else he could say. Nothing else he needed to say.

Overwhelmed, she managed to smile back up at him, face flushed, eyes glistening with tears. She reached up her hand, slipping her long slender fingers through his sideburns and into his own hair.

"I know you do, Logan."

THE END


End file.
